


With Care

by RayneSummer



Series: Merlin - Episode Tags [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s05e09 With All My Heart, Gen, Gwen is there but she's asleep, Mordred is a sweet boy who just wants to help, first work not focused on merlin & gaius !, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25230487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayneSummer/pseuds/RayneSummer
Summary: Arthur has to ensure he hasn't just lost another friend from something as simple as a fall from a cliff...Tag to 5.09
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin - Episode Tags [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794352
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	With Care

Mordred descended the rope carefully – much more careful than Merlin or Arthur had got down the cliff, at any rate.

He hurried over to the king, who was trying to pull at his arm again.

“Here, my lord.” Mordred leant his strength against the stone pinning Arthur’s arm, allowing him to pull the limb free finally. He winced as he flexed his elbow and then wrist and fingers, ensuring all joints were working. Mordred looked nervously over at Merlin while Arthur tested his arm.

“Just bruises,” Arthur muttered to himself, and glanced at Mordred, following the boy’s gaze. “How is he?” He asked grimly as he struggled to straighten up and replace his sword in his scabbard.

Mordred had been trying to ascertain that himself, tentively reaching out with his mind. _Emrys? Can you hear me?_ There was no reply, or feeling that the message had been heard. “He’s breathing,” the druid settled for, hesitantly.

Arthur sighed. “Guess that’s a good start,” he grimaced. But when Mordred took a step towards the fallen man, Arthur said sharply, “Don’t touch him.”

The druid stopped and glanced back, and waited for the king to draw up next to him.

Arthur paused, regarding Merlin laying still on the rocks, the king’s expression fraught with undisguised worry and fear. Slowly, he stepped to his friend’s side and crouched a little, explaining quietly, “I don’t know how badly he’s hurt. And Gaius always says never to move someone like that.”

Mordred just nodded, though Arthur wasn’t paying any attention to him any more, and watched nervously as Arthur seemed to hesitate, unsure what to do by means of following his own advice while also getting them all out of here.

Slowly, he tugged one of his gloves off and very lightly touched his fingers to Merlin’s exposed neck. Even though he could see the man breathing, it was nevertheless a relief to feel a strong and steady pulse under his hand.

Arthur sighed, some relief collecting at the affirmation that he was at least not actively dying right this second. But they couldn’t just sit here regardless. Still careful, he moved his hand over Merlin’s body, with the most light touches he could trying to find any blood or broken bones.

There was nothing – at least nothing obvious that Arthur could feel. No limbs were at odd angels, and there was no red staining anywhere.

Arthur blew out a slow breath. Apparently, Merlin had been extremely lucky.

There was still internal injuries to consider, but frankly, there wasn’t much they could do about much of anything while stuck down here.

So, a little reluctantly, Arthur brought his bare hand to Merlin’s face, and gently patted his cheek.

“Merlin? Hey. Wake up.”

It wasn’t the nicest of morning calls, but Arthur just wanted to see Merlin’s eyes open at this point. Without any obvious problems, there was still head trauma to worry about, and Arthur refused to think that Merlin just wouldn’t regain consciousness – anything else could be dealt with. Anything apart from that.

With that thought in mind, he increased his movements with urgency. “Merlin.” He patted his face again, a little harder. “Merlin, come on. Get up, you clotpole.”

He was hoping for a ‘that’s my word’ or some similar retort, but, just as Arthur was about to start actually get afraid something was seriously wrong, Merlin made a small sound and moved his head just slightly. Alright. He could live with that too.

“There you go.” Arthur tried and failed to keep the bone-deep relief out of his voice, patting his friend’s face again to get another reaction and keep the fear at bay. “Come on. Up you get. Things to do.”

Behind the two, Mordred watched, a little fascinated by the tenderness of the scene. Of course, he knew and had been told about the king and servant, but seeing it was a certain feeling.

When Merlin moved a little again, seemingly trying to come round, Mordred tried to help out a little bit. He reached out again, this time feeling something in return – strong magic, conscious again. _Emrys, wake up_ , he called. Hoping that giving destiny’s lord a command wouldn’t get him a reprimand later.

He didn’t get a reply, but the essence of magic lingered, and between that and Arthur’s cajoling, Merlin managed to struggle out of the dark of unconsciousness.

Arthur couldn’t help a relieved sigh when his friend’s eyes eventually fluttered open, slightly dulled with pain and confusion, but aware enough. 

“Thank goodness,” he muttered to himself as Merlin seemed to realise where he was and what had happened, and typically, immediately tried to get up. “No, stay still a moment.” Arthur quickly put a hand to the man’s shoulder, halting his movement.

Merlin blinked, trying to get his bearings. At least he recognised something here though – “Arthur?”

“As ever,” the king replied, the attempted sarcasm undercut by worry still present. “You feel off a cliff, you idiot,” he reprimanded, though there wasn’t any blame in it. “Are you hurt?”

That was a rather stupid question, but given Arthur hadn’t found any glaring injuries, only Merlin could tell if there was anything seriously wrong.

The warlock frowned and as he took stock of himself. While he did feel really very bruised, his back and head in particular aching fiercely the longer he thought about it, nothing seemed broken or bleeding.

So he swallowed and shook his head best he could, wincing at the pain. “Nothing bad,” he answered honestly.

After a moment, Arthur regarding him through narrowed eyes as though trying to sense a lie, the king nodded and withdrew his hand, straightening.

Merlin gave him a weak smile in what he hoped was reassurance, and tried to get up himself. A frown immediately crossed Arthur’s face again.

“Can you stand?” He asked in concern. Merlin resisted rolling his eyes, knowing it wouldn’t be nice to his pounding head.

“Well, I can’t stay down here all day, can I.” 

And that, more than anything, gave Arthur the biggest sense of relief he’d had since they’d set out on this journey. He nodded again and offered Merlin a hand, adding, “Take off the bags for now.”

Obedient for once, Merlin edged the bag straps over his head as he sat up, then gratefully took Arthur’s hand, stumbling as he stood. Immediately, Arthur’s hand moved to support him under his arm, taking some of his weight as he accustomed his bruised body to being upright.

“You alright?” Arthur’s question was, though heartfelt, gruffer now he could see his friend was awake and aware, clearly little worse from what could well have been a fatal fall.

Merlin decided sarcasm wasn’t what was required in this moment, and simply nodded. “In one piece,” he replied good-naturedly. Arthur huffed in what could have been a laugh at the attempt at lightening the situation.

Arthur shook his head in disbelief. “Only you, Merlin,” he said with a sigh, but smiled. Merlin returned the gesture, and Arthur allowed himself relief for just a moment.

Then reality returned, and he glanced anxiously up where he’d left his wife.

“Alright.” He turned to Mordred, suddenly remembering the knight was there, and addressed him. “Can you take these bags up to where Guinevere is, and find a place to settle for the night.”

Mordred nodded immediately, and hurried to gather the bags from the stone, happy to be doing something to help. Merlin, still being supported by Arthur, tried to pull away in annoyance. “Arthur, I’m fine, I can—”

But without help, his head injury tried to get the better of him, and his knees buckled. Arthur grabbed his arm again, raising his eyebrows in a very Gaius-like way, especially considering the situation.

“Right,” he said disbelievingly, resisting rolling his eyes as he steadied his friend, keeping him on his feet. “Of course you can.”

Merlin scowled, but didn’t try again, given the dizziness in his head and vision.

Mordred gave him a quick small smile before hurrying over to the rope he’d expertly tied off at the top, and started ascending the cliff face with the bags draped around him. Arthur nodded in admiration, and even Merlin felt begrudgingly impressed.

“Good man,” Arthur called as Mordred reached the top and was pulling the bags off, and the knight gave another shy smile before disappearing from their view.

Carefully, the other two started towards the rope, Arthur still holding Merlin’s arm in a firm grip – which the latter would have argued about if his abused body wasn’t threatening to drop at every crack in the rock surfaces.

They reached the rope, and Arthur glanced up then back to Merlin, looking a little doubtful. “Don’t suppose you can do it so gracefully?”

Merlin frowned, offended. He was perfectly agile, thank you very much.

On a usual day, anyway.

“I can do it,” he settled for muttering, holding out hope that it was true. Arthur reluctantly let go of his arm as he gripped the rope and took a deep breath. While his limbs weren’t broken, they weren’t feeling great either, and he would really rather not have to be dragged back up.

“Go on then.” Arthur took a half-step back, folding his arms expectantly. “I’ll stay here in case you fall again.”

With another frown at his much too smug looking king (even if it was to hide the man’s obvious worry), Merlin determinedly adjusted his grip on the rope, and gritted his teeth as he pulled himself up, planting his feet on the vertical stone.

It definitely hurt, but Merlin was known as much too determined despite hurts, so he reached the top in fair speed, gasping as he fell to his back on the firm ground.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice came worried from the bottom. 

He waved a hand over the edge so Arthur could see it, then rolled away to get his breath back so the man could climb over himself.

After a moment, the king appeared, the concern on his face schooling itself into a neutral expression when he took in Merlin sitting up, still breathing hard but clearly no worse. He quickly knelt and drew the rope in, then dropped it next to his servant with a nod before hurrying over to check on Guinevere.

She was, as Mordred had said, sleeping soundly, and Arthur sighed in relief. Merlin was alright, Gwen was fine, and things could carry on as they were planned.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do more and like have them set up camp and -domestic- but idk this seems pretty long and it's late and good enough.  
> also I wasn't even watching this episode, the idea just came to me while playing The Witcher 3 for some reason idk lol  
> Can't believe Gaius isn't in this at all,, first time for everything


End file.
